EQUILIBRIUM
by FotoBridgeT2
Summary: Emily asked Jon for a favor. He agrees, now Emily's world is going to change. Who will she turn to for support? H/P with a touch of Emily/JonC. Spins off of the episode Demonology
1. Chapter 1

EQUILIBRIUM CHAPTER ONE:

_Now equilibrium is the very opposite of disorder.__  
__**Rudolf Arnheim**_

Emily Prentiss was pregnant, for the second time in her life. By the same man. Only this time, it was a deliberate action on both their parts. She'd asked him; asked him for one rather large favor three days after Matthew's funeral.

And Jon had agreed. Easily. For her. And then, he'd turned the tables on her. Demanded that instead of the sterile medical procedure she'd planned, they create their child just the way they had the last one—only this time would be way more enjoyable for her. He'd promised. And he'd delivered. Jon had apparently learned a few things in the twenty-three years since that first bumbling time of awkwardness. Things that ensured the one night they'd agreed upon had stretched into three glorious days she'd enjoyed immensely. But that was neither here nor there.

Knowing that this pregnancy had been deliberate didn't keep that same rushing terror from flooding her, as she sat in the sparse hotel bathroom, little white stick clutched in her hand.

It had been ten weeks since they'd made their deal, eight weeks since they'd spent an entire weekend acting on that deal, the first weekend they'd both had free since the night she'd walked to Jon's door, knocked with determination and laid everything she wanted before him. And damned if the man hadn't readily agreed, and then proved to be extremely fertile.

She was staring at the proof of that with eyes that watered, the proof clutched in a hand that shook. She didn't know whether to be happy or to check herself into the psych ward at the nearest hospital. What was she doing? She had no business wanting to bring an infant into her world! Who would watch this baby? How would she explain how this child was created? Did she honestly want to completely shake up everything she'd ever worked for?

Was she _insane? _

And this time she didn't have Matthew to help her. Didn't have Matthew to lean on.

Hell—she didn't even have Jon. She'd told him what she wanted from him and he'd agreed. He'd father her child and then walk away, being nothing more than an honorary uncle on the few times they'd see each other each year.

He'd agreed. She'd known he would for several reasons. He still felt guilty where she was concerned, for one. For another, Jon loved kids, but didn't want the responsibility of raising them. He doubted his capabilities, and as an international journalist, he would never be home with the child anyway. _She _rarely saw him and they lived in the same city.

But Jon was the last of his generation. Both his parents were dead, he had no siblings, no cousins. His branch of the Cooley tree would be dying with him. Just like her branch of the Prentiss family would be going with her. Until now.

She'd told him all this, told him that he was one of the only men she'd ever trust with something so important. Him—followed distantly by the men on her team. And she couldn't ask this favor of Reid, Morgan, Rossi, or Hotch. She wasn't _that _comfortable with them.

Jon had understood more than what she was saying, too.

With him as the father of _this _child, this baby would be a sibling to the one so long ago. Only this child would be different.

She'd seen the longing in Jon's eyes as he realized what that would mean to her. He wanted it, too. And he'd told her, told her how he wondered about what that child would have been like. What their lives would have been like.

So he'd agreed, but only under the condition that this baby be created from emotion on both it's parents' parts. That had seemed fair to her, so she'd agreed. After all, it wasn't as if she'd never slept with Jon. Or didn't still find him attractive. So they'd agreed, outlined their conditions. And then they'd followed through. And now here she sat, wondering…

What was she going to do now?

UHOHUHOHUHOH

Aaron Hotchner counted heads—Morgan, check, currently flirting with the hotel clerk. Reid, check, currently blushing at the smile of the _other _desk clerk. Rossi, currently grinning wickedly at the front desk _supervisor. _JJ and Garcia, check and check. Currently snickering over the rest of the team. Prentiss…Prentiss…uncheck.

Hotch didn't see a particular brunette head anywhere in the lobby. "Where's Prentiss?"

"Still in her room, most likely." JJ said, her face showing a touch of concern. "She wasn't feeling too great last night."

"Or this morning." Penelope—along for this particular case—said. "I heard her getting sick through the walls earlier. She said it was most likely the Chinese."

"Prentiss has a cast-iron stomach." Rossi said, turning from the fortyish woman behind the counter.

"Dave, you and the rest go straight to the precinct. I'll check on Prentiss and meet you there." Hotch decided quickly.

"You sure that's such a good idea?" Rossi asked and Hotch knew he was referring to the conversation the two men had had recently. It had escaped neither man that Emily seemed highly reluctant to be alone with Hotch in the weeks since her friend's death. They'd also discussed how she'd seemed unaware that _she _was avoiding the supervisor.

Not that she hadn't withdrawn from the rest of the team in minor ways as well, but it was more obvious with Hotch. She still laughed and played with the younger team members, but it was clear that her heart truly wasn't in it. And she never joined them for drinks after a tough case anymore. Never went to the movies with either Reid or Morgan.

No, about the only thing she did was visit JJ and baby Henry. And work. Both Hotch and Rossi had caught her at the office way into the night, working diligently on files. And not just her own. Derek's piles had somehow managed to shrink exponentially as well. And it wasn't Morgan working harder. It was Emily. All her.

And it concerned both men.

Hotch had seen the signs before. With Elle, with Gideon, even with Reid. And he wasn't going to lose Prentiss. Not if he could help it.

She was too…important…to the team. He wasn't blind to the roles she filled. She was a calm, steady mind when _he _needed it. She was a confidante for _everyone_ but him, the first person they all turned to when something was weighing on them. Even Dave would turn to her when he needed a sounding board.

And the way she mothered each of the younger team members was nice to watch, Hotch had always thought that. Reid, JJ, and Garcia, all were younger than Emily and all somehow seemed to fall as her self-assigned responsibilities. Derek was more of her contemporary, but she still kept a tight rein on him. Hotch needed her. It was simple as that.

And they had been on their way to becoming friends, before she'd come to his office so obviously broken. She still worked, still remained the calm, coolly composed profiler who did a damned fine job, but something…something was wrong with her. And Hotch decided that today was the day he found out just exactly what that something was.

He nodded at Dave, letting the older man know he was going to get to the bottom of just what was weighing her down.

Because it wasn't simple grief. It was something else. Something they doubted she even knew they saw.

Hotch turned resolutely to the elevator.

_**(Once again, I do not know when Updates will come, but they WILL come. I promise. And I am trying to work on the other stories as well. But this one sort of jumped into my mind while I was napping last night…)**_


	2. Chapter 2

Emily dropped the pregnancy test with a startled shriek when the knock sounded. Even though the hotel room and bathroom doors separated her from whomever it was, it was still insistent, determined, and even arrogant.

"Just a minute." She called, hoping her voice didn't betray her scattered thoughts. She hurried to the door, opening it partially. "Hotch."

"Prentiss, Garcia said you were ill?" Hotch's tone was concerned, solicitous, and she felt a blush staining her cheeks.

"Just an upset stomach. Maybe the flu or even food poisoning."

"You and Reid shared everything you ate yesterday." Hotch said, and Emily realized it was true. Her appetite had been off and the young genius had generously offered to help her with the leftovers—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Leave it to SuperHotch to notice. "And he's fine."

"Probably the flu." She said. "I'm sure I'll be better in a few hours. Let me just grab my bag, and then we can go."

Emily turned toward the bed nearest the window—it was a standard two bed room—and spied the messenger bag lying on its side. She moved to it quickly, only vaguely aware of Hotch stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him. She focused on flipping the bag closed, making sure she had absolutely everything she needed for the day ahead.

"Emily?" His voice was tight, surprised, and her head jerked in his direction. He held the box the pregnancy test had come in aloft, his eyes slightly widened and mouth parted.

She stepped toward him quickly, her hand flashing out to grab the pink and blue package from him before she'd thought. Not that it mattered—he'd already seen the truth.

HOTCHISFLOORED!!!!

Hotch waited for her to say something. Prentiss pregnant? He'd never even imagined it. Not once could he recall her ever mentioning even dating someone—with the exception of her past allusion when they'd been discussing Viper, let alone getting serious enough to have a child. And she'd have to be serious about the man to have a child with him. Still, Prentiss pregnant?

With JJ's recent pregnancy, what were the odds that another member of his team would end up…pregnant. That just didn't happen that often in their particular specialization. For one thing, women were outnumbered eleven to one in the FBI. The fact that he had had four women on his team in the last four years including Garcia was an oddity in and of itself.

"Legally, Hotch, I don't think _you _can ask me any questions about that." She said, and he had to give her credit. Her voice only wavered a bit there at the end.

"As your supervisor, I can't. But off the record and as someone who cares about you…" Hotch paused, unsure how to continue. If she'd been JJ or even Garcia, he'd have felt a bit more comfortable. But he and Agent Emily Prentiss had a more complex relationship than the slightly older superior/big brother mentoring deal he had with each of the blond women.

Hotch wasn't sure Agent Prentiss even _liked _him half the time, though that had changed in the recent times.

She didn't judge, and as messed up as he'd been there for a while, he'd needed that. Still, other than casual cups of coffee and few idle conversations, Hotch really knew nothing about the woman standing in front of him with arms crossed and face both tight and unsure. And trembling. "Prentiss, Emily, first, are you ok?"

"Of course, _sir." _Her voice was that flat, politician-tone she used when she wanted to reveal nothing. She used it a lot with him in the beginning of their work relationship, but he'd not heard it truly directed at him—or anyone else on the team—since the early months following Gideon's deflection and Dave's arrival.

"Do you need anything?" Hotch stepped closer, his hand coming out to squeeze her shoulder. She tensed once before relaxing. She always did that when he got within touching range. "Is there anything you need to tell me that may directly effect your job performance—or your safety while in the field?"

"At this point, I'm not quite sure." She said, shuddering. "I think so. But I don't know."

"In that case, I'll want you working victimology on this one, until you know for sure and we discuss it more in depth. Now, BAU aside—are you ok? Seriously ok? Do you need to take a few days after we get back to DC , personal time?"

"No. I don't think so. If I do, I'll tell you. First thing." Her tone held a resolution that wasn't there a moment ago and Hotch's eyes narrowed on her face. Was she lying to him?

"Emily?" He waited until she looked him fully in the eye. "If you need anything, you only have to ask. Anything at all."

EMILYANDHOTCHEMILYANDHOTCH

Emily bit her bottom lip, an habitual tick that surfaced whenever she was truly worried about something. Hotch wasn't exactly another Matthew Benton. Matthew Benton had been someone she'd counted on when she was younger, but then things had turned between them. He'd been so messed up she'd not been able to save him the way he'd saved her so long ago.

And Jon hadn't exactly been someone she could count on either. Emily'd learned long ago that there was really no one—especially of the male persuasion—that she could depend on.

She was close to Reid, close to Dave, closer still to Morgan. But not…that close. And while certainly on friendly terms with the man before her, _they _were nowhere near close. They were work colleagues, friendly, dependable to one another, but it stopped there.

"I want this. If this…" She felt her tongue twist on the words. "If it's real. And not some sort of sick cosmic, or karmic joke."

"I see."

She doubted he did. She knew Dave hadn't told him of her past, the older man might be a lover of gossip when it was being told to him. But David Rossi didn't repeat…anything. That's why she'd opened up to the older profiler. "I doubt you do, Hotch, but thank you…shouldn't we be going?"

"I sent the team on ahead. I wanted to talk with you."

"About what?"

"About how you were doing, but this…" He waved a hand in an uncharacteristic gesture. "It explains a lot."

"Like what?" Emily felt the anger roiling. Anger was good. Anger she could handle. It was confusion and vulnerability that were her weaknesses.

"I was worried." He said, almost lamely.

"Why? I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. Haven't I more than proven that to you?" Her words held a bite that neither of them could miss.

"Of course. But I'd like to think I'm a friend. And friends can be concerned when one goes through a rough time." Hotch moved closer, she fought the urge to step back.

"Derek and I—we're friends. Dave, Reid…but you, Hotch…I'm not sure we are." She squared her shoulders. "And I can handle this. I can. I'm almost forty years old. Not a child. I can handle _having _one. Now, shall we go?"


	3. Chapter 3

Hotch didn't know if he'd won the conversation with Prentiss or lost it. She'd yanked the box from his hands, grabbed her bag and keys and basically marched him straight out the hotel room door. His mind just couldn't get around it.

Emily Prentiss thought she was pregnant, and if he'd profiled her mannerisms correctly than she _was. _Wow. Emily Prentiss pregnant. That was really going to screw with his team. Much more than JJ's pregnancy ever had.

As he walked beside her, he tried to keep one eye on her expressions. He knew for a fact that to see the real Emily Prentiss one had to look quickly, and secretly, as she hid her deep beneath that cool façade that had slipped ever so slightly in recent days.

It was then he realized the truth—she was terrified. Her eyes were wide, soft, slightly panicked, slightly damp. She was chewing her lip, and occasionally one hand would run across her mouth and she's proceed to chew on a nail. He'd noticed early on that Prentiss was a nail biter in her weakest of weak moments. Her right hand had been chewed ragged.

He remembered the moment Hailey had told him they were expecting Jack. How he'd been both thrilled and petrified. And half convinced it was the riskiest thing he'd ever done. And he and Hailey had been together for over a decade at that point.

Prentiss was alone. He thought. When would she have had time to date someone? They all pulled sixty, seventy, even eighty hour weeks, traveled four days out of five. Rarely saw family, friends, or even the other teams in their own division. So when would she have had time to meet someone?

Unless it was someone she _already _knew. Like someone she worked with, for example. No—she wasn't the type. Any more than he himself was. And the only men he could recall her socializing with on a frequent basis was him and the team. And he would have _known _if that had been the case.

So unless she'd met some random guy in a bar, it was someone she'd known _outside _of the BAU. Someone she knew and trusted. Someone like that John Cooley. She'd loved him, he'd seen that in how she'd hovered over him. How she'd touched him. How he'd touched her.

Hotch had to admit something about the guy bothered him. He had seemed to be so demanding of Emily even though he'd rarely seen the two of them together. It was obvious Emily was the stronger one of their group. Obvious she protected _him _in many ways.

And even though Hotch _fully _appreciated the contributions made by the various female members of his team he wasn't blind to his own faults. Hotch was, deep-down, a bit chauvinistic. Men should protect women. Period. It was why he _rarely _assigned Emily and JJ to work together on the streets. They were just flat out more vulnerable than the male members of the team. It just was. Hotch had no intention of changing that.

Except _this _would change things, he realized. She couldn't go out into the field. Well, JJ had, but JJ was younger. Emily's pregnancy would be more complicated just because of her age. And Emily was never comfortable being pampered, protected, or coddled. Or the center of attention. She'd be much worse pregnant that JJ ever had. She'd be fiercely independent, daring, stubborn. She'd give them all heart-attacks. Hotch fought the urge to groan.

And then there would be a replacement agent while she was out on maternity leave with the baby. Hotch hated to admit it, but JJ was _technically _easier to replace than Emily. Profilers were a bit harder to come by than media liaisons. Still, JJ had the skills, maybe he could get her to go ahead and take the profiler exams, then they could get a second media liaison for the few months JJ would need to cover for Emily.

But that was still quite a few months down the road. They had to get through the next little while before he needed to be thinking that far ahead. They merged with the rest of the team, and everyone must have sensed that _now _wouldn't have been a good time to question Emily as they all remained relatively silent on the short trip to the vehicles. Dave took one set of keys and both blondes. Derek and Reid took the second set. That left Hotch and Emily in the final vehicle. He waited until she'd fastened herself in tightly before starting the vehicle before he spoke. "Why don't you sit back and close your eyes for a bit, it's a thirty minute drive to the precinct. I'll go easy on the curves and hills."

"Thank you. I'd appreciate it." Her words were husky, soft. Her eyes closed before he'd even left the parking lot. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Hotch. It was rude and mean."

_And Hailey had said so much worse to him during _her _pregnancy. _Hotch thought, as he glanced at the thin hand she had covering her stomach. "It's ok. I know you didn't mean it. Even if there might have been a few words of truth in there somewhere."

Her dark eyes popped open, worried and remorseful. "No..Hotch…I…"

"Relax." Hotch smiled at her minutely, dropping one hand to cover hers—the one _not _resting on her stomach. "I know our start was a bit rocky. Entirely my own fault. But I'm here. If you need anything. I wanted to tell you that earlier, back when your friend…but I know it didn't seem like I was doing anything to help you. I certainly didn't feel like I did much good."

"You did. You honestly did." Hotch almost smiled at the earnest tone in her slightly husky voice. The way she leaned in closer to him was sweet as well. He'd seen her be sweet before, with Reid, JJ, Garcia, Dave—even Morgan. She honestly cared about her friends. "I knew what position I had put you in, Hotch, I did. And what you did, getting _him _out of this country—well, no one else could have done that. And we found John, we found him, and that's all that matters, isn't it?"

At the man's name her hand tightened on her stomach confirming what Hotch had already suspected.

He had a strong suspicion, and from what he'd seen of the man, Hotch doubted the journalist would be much help to Emily in the long months ahead. Cooley was the father. And since Hotch had seen him on the news covering the world from the middle of Pakistan, Hotch knew he wasn't around right now, either. And probably wouldn't be for a long, long time.

Dammit, Emily Prentiss was pregnant. Pregnant and all alone. Except for the team…and him.


End file.
